Partner Is More Than Just A Word
by Liam Needsom
Summary: AU - perhaps. Lee is sent to London to help Emily with a Peacock Dance but it proves more emotionally charged than he'd expected and sends him spiralling. Amanda is keeping secrets too. Will they ever share the burden of these together?
1. Dulling the Pain

Author's Note: Here Be Dragons.

This story contains elements some of you may be uncomfortable with. I ask only that you read it with an open mind and heart. This is not intended to be shocking or hurtful, just a view of events seen from a slightly different angle that may change your perception of how certain things happened.

All characters remain the property of their original creators. No copyright infringement is intended

* * *

Lee looked around the smoky basement bar trying to spot his target. The place was a seething mass of dancers and the blaring music was giving him the slightest headache. He'd barely had time to recover from the jet lag of his trans-Atlantic flight into London before he'd been briefed and tossed into this Peacock Dance.

It had been a while since he'd been dragged into an MI5 operation but Emily Farnsworth had requested him personally and she was one of the few people on the world he'd do anything for, even giving up his already delayed trip to the Riviera.

He shook his head and took another swig of his Scotch as he laughed a little remembering the reason for the first delay. He'd been horrified when Billy had demanded he cancel it, trading the bright lights of La Croisette for the smoky lantern light of Station One, but – and he would never admit this to Billy or Francine – it had actually been _fun_. Obviously it hadn't been as fun as the Riviera trip with Marjorie would have been, but watching Amanda bungle her way through the classes had had its own charm. She'd been so unlike her usual self – all her usual self-confidence had been absent for some reason and she'd been so klutzy. He stopped to think about that for a minute – why had she been so off? She'd still managed to stay focused enough to see through the Soviet agents and even ended up capturing one singlehandedly, albeit accidentally, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized something must have been wrong. He started trying to think when she'd started to act oddly. She'd been fine, enthusiastic even he'd brought her the offer of training and she'd still been pretty excited the first day but then… what had happened then? His brows snapped together at the idea that something or someone had gotten to his partner without him noticing. Somewhere in the last few months he'd started to look past his initial reservations and seen what a gift she'd been in his life: caring, insightful, brave, altogether adorable, in fact, although he could never tell her that. He was damned if he was ever going to get that close to anyone again.

 _No_ , he thought, _just co-workers, just barely friends enough to work together_. Never again was anyone getting that close to him – it wasn't worth it when they inevitably left. _Or were taken_ , he couldn't help adding. He shook himself again, freeing himself from the old memories and forced himself to think over the briefing he'd received today at MI5. Like a repeat of the Cambridge Five scandal of the 1960s, it had become apparent that the Soviets were using the left wing hatred of the Thatcher government's policies to foment dissatisfaction in the U.K. MI5 had slowly been building cases against various union leaders and academics throughout the country who they suspected of working with the KGB. The Soviet infiltration had also reached into the public service and that was where Lee came in. They'd identified a mole, hidden almost in plain sight in their own offices and needed an unknown to come in and help them bait the trap.

He hadn't been able to believe it when Emily had outlined the Peacock Dance to him that morning with that mischievous look on her face

"It's pretty straightforward, Lee. We've done a complete computer analysis and you're the perfect conglomeration of every man Fairfield has ever dated. If the computer could have created you from scratch, it couldn't be better: tall, sandy haired, athletic, American; honestly you're the whole package."

He'd laughed at her assessment and told her what Amanda had said so long ago about James Delano, "Well, why don't you let the computer put the dress on and go out with him tonight, too?"

She'd laughed roundly and answered, "Well, fortunately we don't need you to wear a dress for this dance, Scarecrow, because I'm sure we don't have any heels in your size."

He'd still been laughing at that mental image when she'd gotten a serious look on her face and put the file on the desk in front of her.

"There's just one thing, Lee. Let me say it again – you are the best man for this job and we're desperate for your help at baiting Fairfield into the open – but there's something you should see first before you agree. It may have an impact on whether you feel you're going to be able to perform this one." She pulled a photograph from the file and slid it across the table towards him. "This is Kim Fairfield."

He looked down at the photo and felt his heart seize up for an instant then begin to pound. He knew the shock must have drained the colour from his face because when he looked up at Emily, her expression had changed to one of concern.

"That's not possible!"

"No it's not. The similarities are striking, I'll admit, but that is Kim Fairfield."

He dropped his eyes to stare at the photo again, seeing his lost love in every curve of the face, the soft curl of hair over the forehead, damn it, he'd swear even the light freckles were the same. "Similarities?" he'd growled. "They could be twins and you know it." He put his head in his hands. "I don't know, Emily, I don't know if I can do it. I'm not sure I could keep it straight where one stops and the other begins."

"I was afraid you'd say that, Lee, and I understand. I truly do, but I can't overemphasize how much we need you on this one. Fairfield's position inside MI5 means we can't use any of our own agents – they'd be recognized in a heartbeat – and we need to close this hole in security completely before the meetings in Berlin next week. There is a deadline here, Lee, and if you think you can hold it together for one week, that should be enough."

"One week?" he'd repeated hollowly.

"One week. If we can't flush the ring out quietly before Berlin, we're going to have to go in guns blazing and we'd like to avoid that is possible. Do you think you can do it?"

He'd closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them to stare at the photo again. He could feel his throat tightening just looking at it, even knowing it wasn't… that it couldn't be… He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll try."

Emily looked simultaneously relieved and more worried. "I wish we could have arranged for Amanda to help you with this one. She has such a good head on her shoulders and she could help keep you on an even keel."

"Not with this!" he'd snapped flicking the photo back towards his mentor. "She doesn't know anything about… that part of my life."

Emily raised her brows. "She seemed pretty au courant with your life and your lifestyle when I was in Washington last summer," she said.

"Amanda understands all about my dating life – but I haven't told her about anything in my past, about people who were _important_ to me. I don't want her that close to me. I don't want anyone that close to me ever again." His voice had gotten angrier as he'd spoken, although he'd tried to control it, knowing it would upset Emily to see him so emotional. "Let's just get this show on the road, Emily. Give me the rest of the file and tell me everything I need to know about Kim Fairfield."

She'd stared at him doubtfully for a few moments, while he'd stared back defiantly and then, finally, she had pushed the file folder towards him and begun the briefing.

* * *

Someone approaching the bar jostled him and he barely held onto the tumbler in his hand. He'd been so deep in thought that he'd momentarily forgotten he was supposed to be watching for his mark and so straightened up too quickly, jostling them back in turn just as the barman had passed them their drink.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," he said. "Let me get you a replacement." He turned to face the person he'd bumped and the words died on his lips. He knew, _knew_ this was Kim Fairfield but in the flesh, even more than in the photo, the similarity was so striking that he couldn't take it in. The smile, the sparkle in the eye, the dimple in the cheek – it just didn't seem possible that two people could look so alike. Something must have shown in his expression because the smile on Fairfield's face had started to dim a little, replaced with a look of concern.

"Are you all right, Yank? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Even the English accent and the knowledge that it couldn't be anyone but Fairfield couldn't stop Lee from breathing out the question. "Andy?"

Fairfield stared at him for a long moment then down at the hand that Lee had unconsciously held out, before rocking back on his heels to sit on the stool next to him. "No, but from the look on your face I wish I were. Let me buy you a drink and you can tell me all about him."

Lee managed to pull himself together enough to protest. "No, I spilled your drink – let me buy yours." He even managed to smile as Fairfield looked at him quizzically, then shrugged.

"You Yanks always have plenty of cash to splash around, why not?" He settled more comfortably onto the bar stool, turned just enough that his knee was resting lightly against Lee's. He waited until the barman had brought him another glass then leaned on his elbow on the bar and looked Lee fully in the face. "So tell me about Andy."

Lee felt his throat tighten again as it had earlier that day. Without thinking, he reached up to loosen his tie, suddenly feeling too constricted. "Not a lot to tell, really," he managed to blurt out.

"You loved him." It wasn't a question. Lee nodded dumbly.

"AIDS?" Now _that_ was the obvious question.

"No," Lee shook his head, trying to get his voice under control. "Accident." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to black out that image he knew would never leave him of Andy's body flying back from the force of the bullet. "It was my fault."

"Ah, now that's too bad. We lose enough these days without Fate taking them from us in other ways."

"You look so much like him, it was just a shock," said Lee. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out at all."

"They say we all have a doppelganger somewhere. I'm sorry it looks like I'll never have the chance to meet mine." Fairfield leaned forward and put his hand on Lee's knee. "Do you want to go find a quiet booth and you can tell me about him? You look like a man with the cares of the world on his shoulders right now."

Lee nodded and slipped off the bar stool, and followed him through the heaving mass of men dancing and grinding against each on the dance floor. It had been a while – well since Andy's death he realized – since he'd gone to a gay bar, preferring instead to settle for the occasional clandestine blowjob in the dark parks around the Mall. He'd almost forgotten what it was like, the acrid smell of sweat and the underlying aura of testosterone in the air, the movement of furtive couplings in the shadows, the appreciative looks as he passed – it was all coming back in a rush and he was both panicky and aroused.

Fairfield had managed to locate the last empty booth in a dark corner and slid into one of the benches. With the barest hesitation, Lee followed him, sliding onto the same bench, moving close enough not to appear overly confident, but close enough that any movement from either of the would cause them to brush against the other. It afforded him some small comfort, that light touch, and he could almost forget why he was here.

He felt Fairfield turn slightly sideways to study his profile and then an arm slid along the back of the bench so that it was resting lightly against his shoulders and the other hand came to rest on his thigh.

"So what's your name anyway? I can't just keep calling you Yank all night."

"Lee. And you?"

"Kim." He saw Lee's raised brow and started to laugh softly. "Oh, I know you Americans think it's a girl's name, but it has a long revered history as a man's name over here. Rudyard Kipling and all that."

"If you say so," said Lee agreeably.

"And was Andy the love of your life?" Fairfield was being brutally direct, but in some way it was a welcome relief, like ripping off a Band-Aid. It had been so long since he'd been able to talk to anyone about him.

"He was my partner."

"Ah," answered Fairfield knowingly. "Work or personal?"

"Both," answered Lee in a tight voice. "But not for long enough."

"How long was not long enough?"

"Seven years." He turned his head to study Fairfield again. "It's eerie. I know you're not him but…"

"But just for tonight, I could be," answered Fairfield leaning in to gently kiss him. "Let me be your Andy just for tonight, Gorgeous."

The soft touch of lips on his had been enough. All thoughts of the mission fled as Lee pressed him back into the corner of the booth, running his fingers through his soft hair, probing his mouth with his tongue, giving in to the relief of feeling a man's touch on his body after so many months of denial. They were both moaning now, hands caressing each other and before he knew it, Lee had managed to get both of his hands inside Fairfield's shirt somehow while Fairfield was holding his head in both hands, kissing him with breathy sighs. When Fairfield started to laugh quietly, Lee had pushed himself off him frantically, suddenly overcome with shame at how easily he'd given into that physical attraction.

"Steady on, old boy," said Fairfield, leaning forward to grab his tie and pull him back in gently. "I don't think we should stop but I do think maybe we should slow down just a trifle, don't you?" He caressed Lee's cheek gently, eyes twinkling. "Maybe you'd like to dance?" he gestured past Lee to the dance floor and Lee realized with relief that the music had gone much quieter and a slow song was playing for a floor packed with swaying couples.

"Yes," he gasped out, glad of the chance to try and get his emotions under control. He'd backed his way out of the booth and stood there, chest heaving while Fairfield straightened his clothing before standing up and taking Lee's hand to lead him to the dance floor. Fairfield wasn't exactly like Andy he realized. Andy had been slightly too tall for his head to rest comfortably in the small of his neck like Kim's did and Kim had a pleasant softness to his body, not feminine exactly but not the firm muscles and angularity that Andy had from his regular visits to the gym. The scent was different too, of course, everyone had their own personal smell and while pleasant, it wasn't Andy's. That was the moment, arms wrapped around a man who was so close to being Andy but wasn't, that Lee finally gave into the last of the grief he'd held inside for the past two years. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes and knew there was no way to stop them. Kim must have felt the slight hiccup in his breath because he leaned back in his embrace and looked up at him, lifting one hand to gently wipe the tears away.

"Let's get you out of here, Beautiful. Your place or mine?"

"Yours," choked out Lee. "I can't be seen…"

"You can't be seen bringing men back to your hotel room?" asked Kim understandingly. "You Americans are so puritanical about these things." He lifted his hand to the back of Lee's head and brought it down to his own for a long tender kiss. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Lee took the proffered hand and followed him out of the bar like a puppy.

* * *

The cab ride to Kim's apartment had been a circus of furtive groping and kisses when they thought the driver wasn't watching. They had tumbled out of the black cab, Lee insisting on paying the fare while Kim's hands promised repayment in better more appealing ways out of sight of the driver's line of vision. To Lee's relief, the apartment was the first floor of an old converted Regency terrace because he didn't think he could have managed stairs by the point. Kim had laughed when he'd dropped the keys, so distracted by Lee's standing so close behind him, hands wandering with a mind of their own.

"Lee, you big Yankee faggot, can you not leave me alone long enough to get the bloody key in the door?"

"No," answered Lee honestly, taking advantage of Kim having to bend to pick the off the floor to grind against him

"Well lucky for you, I've managed it despite you," laughed Kim, pushing open the door and turning to pull Lee into the room by his tie. "Now, would you like a cup of tea or anything?" He was looking up at him with laughing eyes and for an instant, Lee suddenly saw Amanda, laughing at him in just the same way, always offering coffee or sandwiches or brownies. He pushed that thought away as forcefully as he could. _Not tonight_ , he thought, _tonight is just for me. Real life and the mission can wait until tomorrow._

"No" he answered in a rough voice. "No tea, no coffee, no anything." In the light of the apartment, he was struck once again at how much Kim looked like Andy. The differences were more obvious to him now and he wouldn't mistake one for the other, but still, his heart seized with grief at the memory of his partner and recognizing it, Kim had taken by the hand.

"Right then," he said leading him towards the bedroom. "Come along and let me love you."

* * *

Lee woke in the dim light of dawn, wrapped in Kim's arms. _I have to stop thinking of him as Kim_ , was his first thought, _I need to think of him as Fairfield, the mark, the job – nothing more._ And then Kim had woken as well and he'd turned to face him and the loving had begun again.

* * *

"So what are you doing over here in Blighty anyway?" asked Kim over breakfast.

"Blighty? You guys don't seriously call it that, do you?" smiled Lee, unable to resist meeting the mischievous grin across the table.

"No, we don't, but you Yanks seems to love it when we do," replied Kim playfully. "But what brings you here, other than the charming gentlemen's clubs of Soho?"

"I'm in Import/Export, Anacord Electronics" answered Lee with the story they'd agreed on back at MI5, reusing his cover from a few weeks before.

Kim had begun to laugh, as Lee had expected "So you're a spy then?"

Lee managed to look surprised. "What? No, I'm really in electronics – why would you think I'm a spy?"

"Import/export is like code, old chap – like being a cultural attaché – no one is really such a thing, it's always a cover."

"Well, mine isn't. I mean, I'm not. I'm here on business to meet up with some contacts to get our products into more European markets."

"Eastern European markets?" asked Kim knowledgeably.

"Among others," said Lee pretending to be uncomfortable. "Why are you so interested anyway?"

"Oh I'm not," grinned Kim. "I'm just enjoying watching you squirm a little. Do your bosses know about this?" he waved back and forth between the two of them.

"About you and me? I doubt it – I only met you twelve hours ago," said Lee being purposely dense.

"No, old chap, I mean do they know you're, you know…"

"Gay? Oh God no – they can never know that. It would be the end of my career."

"Well, your secret is safe with me," said Kim thoughtfully.

Lee stared back at him wide-eyed, knowing that inch by inch, Kim was swallowing the bait they were laying for him. He grinned suddenly at the memory of what else Kim had swallowed inch by inch the night before.

Kim met his gaze and laughed out loud. "But there's another secret you're pretty lousy at keeping from me, Lee Stetson." He got up and straddled Lee's lap, sliding one hand inside the robe he'd loaned him to gently flick his nipple while his tongue ran gently along the outside of his ear. "You are so beautiful."

Lee closed his eyes and let his lips begin wandering along Kim's collarbone as his hands caressed the thick length that was pressed against his stomach . "You've been so kind. You'll never know how badly I needed this."

"Like I said last night, we've all lost too many people these past few years. Sometimes you just need to dull the pain. Now how about you and that gorgeous dimpled ass follow me back to bed and we can continue this conversation more comfortably? Because I really think there's at least nine inches of you that is in desperate need of some attention."

Lee needed no further persuasion to follow him.

* * *

"So you think you've drawn him out enough?" asked Emily, a hopeful note in her voice.

"I think so. You heard him last night, offering to grease the wheels on getting contacts with the East Germans." Lee had planted half a dozen bugs in Kim's apartment after that first night and from that moment on, MI5 had been privy to all their most intimate conversations, something he'd been all too aware of, even when Kim wasn't. He knew he'd let himself get too involved with the mark, but it wasn't like Eva this time. It wasn't love, it was catharsis; he'd used Kim for his own needs, far more than he'd played him for the mission and although he'd cleared one emotional log jam, he suspected he'd created a new one.

Emily gazed at him carefully across the table. He wouldn't meet her eyes, preferring to stare out the window over the rooftops of Gower Street. She knew what lengths he'd gone to on their behalf that week; she'd made sure she'd gotten transcripts of every recording, wanting to know if or when it had gone too far for him to pull back. Looking at him now, she wasn't sure she'd been diligent enough – he looked…hard, she decided.

"Will you need me to help bring him in? Play the worried lover? Play the bad cop?" he was asking now, still not looking her direction.

"No, I think you've done enough, Lee dear. We'll simply tell him you've been sent home in disgrace by the British government, making it clear you were an innocent victim of our plots and thus preserve your cover in case it could be useful again later."

He did look at her then, a sardonic glint in his eye. "I bet. Can't afford to lose another agent who can swing either way for you on demand."

"That's not what I meant, Lee," she said sadly and his face softened.

"I know you didn't Emily and I'm sorry. This whole thing has been a little close to the bone for me, you know? I thought I'd nailed the cover closed on that box and this week just blew it wide open." He sighed and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "I just want to go home."

She leaned over and took his hand. "Then we'll get you on your way. But will you promise me one thing?"

He looked up at her and nodded dumbly.

"Will you go home to Amanda? Will you let her help you?" He looked at her angrily and she could see him getting ready to fight her on it. "No, I don't mean you have to tell her anything about what went on here – I mean, it's above her classification level for one thing – but let her in, let her be your friend at the very least. She's a good person and a good friend and you need that – you know you need that."

He opened his mouth, ready to dispute it again, but at the look in her eye, he closed it again and slumped back in his chair. Actually Amanda was exactly what he needed and he knew it. Pure unselfish love – not romantic love but just someone who loved him for him. Emily was right; he needed that in this business. "Yes, fine. I will let Amanda help me. Happy now?"

"Yes, Dear," she said smiling. "Let's get you home."

* * *

He hadn't known what to think when he'd walked into the Agency that morning and found it empty. He'd only been gone a week – it hadn't even been a zero contact mission and somehow the entire Agency had vanished, apparently during the short period it had taken him to travel back.

He'd arrived back the night before and despite the change in time zones waking him up early, he had hung around the apartment doing laundry, throwing old food out of the fridge – anything that would keep him from having to go into the Agency and face Billy's knowing looks. He wasn't sure how much Billy had been briefed on what MI5 had asked of him, but he knew he'd know the minute Billy looked him in the eye and right now, he just couldn't face that thought. He knew that with even only the barest outline of what had gone, Billy would see something in his expression that would send him off to Dr. Pfaff without hesitation and he knew, he _knew_ that couldn't end well for him right now. He needed to get back to work, he needed to be distracted, and he needed to be in full agent mode with no emotions and no ties to anything. When he'd finally been ready to face the people who knew him best these days, he'd gone to work – and found it gone.

Panic had set in first. He thought he'd gotten used to people vanishing out of his life, but he'd always had an explanation for those disappearances at least. This was his whole life, the entire reason for his existence gone with almost no trace. He'd leaned against the wall of the lobby, head tilted back and hands flush against the wall as if being anchored could stop the feeling of nausea that had overwhelmed him. Suddenly he wished he'd stayed in London, stayed to help Emily wrap up the case even if it had meant staying to watch Kim get arrested but he'd wanted to go home and she'd let him with only that one worried smile. She'd had no idea what he was going home to; she thought he was going home to - .

And then it hit him: Amanda. Amanda wouldn't have vanished along with the Agency. Amanda had ties, Amanda had family, Amanda would be _home_ and maybe, just maybe if he was very lucky, she'd have some idea what was going on.

He would never admit to himself how much of a relief it was to pause outside her kitchen in her garden and listen to the sounds of regular family life coming out through the slightly open window. When he heard her mother asking about what had gone wrong at work that day, he took the chance to peek in and see if he could get her attention. Her face was a mix of shock and relief and within seconds she had darted out the back door.

"Oh Lee, you're all right. I was so worried." It was like a warm blanket hearing her, knowing that she at least had been worried about him.

"I'm fine. I was away on a classified mission." It was ridiculous – she knew that already but he found himself babbling it out Amanda-style, and then she confirmed everything he already knew, that the Georgetown office had been emptied out completely. He was more concerned when she said she hadn't heard from anyone else and in that instant made the decision.

"Do you bowl?"

"Do I bowl?" If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have been laughing at the expression on her face, but right now, all he wanted was to hold on to the one sliver of Agency life he had left and he wanted to keep her with him. It wasn't until they were actually at the bowling alley that she called him on it.

"If I'm not going to be briefed, then why am I here?" It was a good question and he clutched at the one thing he could think of.

"Well, it would look stupid, me going bowling alone." He knew the second he said it that she'd seen through it. Her eyes had lit up with that look he knew was reserved for when he said something dumb or when she knew he was being evasive and she'd done that little head bob to hide the fact she was laughing at him and he'd jammed his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to hug her for her understanding. _Co-workers_ , he repeated like a mantra. _Nothing more than co-workers_.

He was getting more and more frantic however, as the time passed and he still hadn't been contacted. "Whoever is out, stays out" is what he'd told Amanda. What if he was out permanently? What if Emily had let slip something to Billy about how the London case had affected him? What if he was seen as too much of a loose cannon to be inside whatever crisis had caused Operation Possum to go into effect? He knew Amanda was picking up on the tension because she was becoming more and more soothing with every passing moment, trying to keep him calm.

"You don't bowl? Not at all? Okay, well then I'll show you, come on, Honey." He hadn't even called her on the endearment, he'd just let her try to distract him.

It had taken all his mental strength not to run to the phone when he'd been passed the message to pick up and he'd been fed up to the back teeth with Francine's questions about his status. "I want to come home," he'd told her, recognizing the echo of what he'd said to Emily only a few days ago, and then Francine had said he had to wait longer and hung up. Now the panic was really starting to set in – why was he still being shut out?

Having Yuri Valov show up and beginning to see the shadowy outlines of the case had actually been a relief – he had something to work on, even if it was from the outside. When it had finally started to coalesce and it became apparent the threat they were facing, there'd been no more time for introspection; he could feel the ground firming back under his feet as he did what he knew he did well.

He'd watched in amazement as Valov had extracted all the information from Amanda under hypnosis – he suspected it would not have been as easy if Amanda had not been so eager to be helpful – but he'd noticed how much she had shied away from the idea to begin with. There'd been an element of panic in her babbling reaction as if she were afraid. He recognized it – he'd felt it himself – and for a whisper of a second, he remembered that worry he'd had about her behaviour at Station One. Knowing there was no time to deal with that now, he'd settled for giving her a reassuring look – any kind of physical contact was out of the question in front of Valov – and she'd sat down with instant trust while he'd made sure to sit down in her line of vision.

When she'd bolted from the room after Francine's arrival, he'd watched her go with a mixture of relief and longing. Relief that she was out of the way of danger and with any luck, she'd have the sense to get on that damn train with her family and leave town; longing that she hadn't left at all, that she'd stayed with him – she was becoming his own personal lucky charm no matter how much he tried to prevent it. At least he had a team to work with now though, and leads to follow and any number of things to think about to try and save the world from World War Three.

Despite all that, when she'd walked back in the morning, he'd felt such a calmness come over him. Nothing ever went really wrong with Amanda around it seemed, no matter how dark it appeared and even as he tried to persuade her to leave, his entire inner being had been holding its breath, hoping she'd stay. She had stayed – she had not only stayed, she had insisted that they needed her to go with them. He hadn't been able to hide his smile then; she was so ridiculously pragmatic even in the face of nuclear annihilation. The only crack had come when he'd really tried to send her away and she'd flat out refused. "If that bomb goes off, I don't want to be sitting alone in a cab somewhere with the meter ticking."

He knew she'd added that last part about the meter to make it sound less terrifying but her real emotions was hidden in the rest of the sentence – "I don't want to be alone". Well, neither did he, and if he was going to die trying to stop this, he wanted to go in the company of someone he loved. _Cared about,_ he corrected himself. _You don't love a co-worker_.

* * *

The entire thing had turned out to be a blessing in disguise in the end. By the time they'd stopped the bomb threat and the Agency was still at sixes and sevens trying to get up and running again in Georgetown, Billy had pretty much almost forgotten he'd even been away in the week leading up to it. It was only when it had all finally started to calm down that Billy had asked him absently one morning in the bullpen how it had all gone in London.

"Fine," he'd replied. "Typical Peacock Dance – nothing to it. You know how it is, Billy." Billy had just grunted in agreement, already moving on to the next thing on his agenda and not really paying attention to Lee's answer. He'd heard the small thoughtful noise beside him though and had put on his best agent face before turning to look at Amanda. She was staring up at him with what he mentally called her "mother look" and he wondered what he could possibly have given away in his non-committal answer. He could almost see the gears clicking away behind her eyes, and tossing all his promises to Emily aside, he'd gone on the offensive.

"You know, Amanda," he began, "When I was away, I had a lot of long plane rides to think and I was wondering what went wrong with you at Station One." And that was that – he watched the shutters come down over her face faster than he'd ever seen it on anyone.

"What do you mean, Lee?" she'd asked, suddenly making herself very busy with continuing to reorganize the files from the banker's boxes surrounding her. "I just wasn't very good at a lot of the stuff we were asked to do. I wasn't prepared enough and it showed."

"No, you and I both know you're better at that stuff than you were out there. And this whole bomb thing showed how good you are under pressure and that your instincts are great. I mean, you still managed to figure out what was going on at Station One, but you weren't yourself. You were fine when you got there – what happened?" She continued to shuffle files around for a moment or two, not looking at him. "Amanda?"

She stopped and sighed, still not looking up. For a second he thought she still wasn't going to tell him and then it had all come out in her usual rambling way.

"Well, it's probably going to sound silly because it was so many weeks later and it wasn't like I was really in any danger or anything but I guess it had still been bothering me and even though it was nothing, I guess it just kept bothering me, sort of like shell-shock you know, the way you think you're fine and then you hear a car backfire or something and it all comes rushing back and you get kind of panicky…"

"Amanda!" he'd almost shouted it, holding up one hand as if it was going to hold back the tide of nonsense spilling out of her. She'd jumped and a dull flush had coloured her face. "What happened?"

She'd started picking at her cuticles then and her voice had gotten very small, so he'd had to lean in closer to hear her over the hubbub of the office. "It was when Francine jumped out and grabbed me that first morning. It reminded me of when those guys broke into my house that night. You know, the night we had that…disagreement ( _You mean fight_ , thought Lee) and they grabbed me in the same way and I guess it just bothered me more I realized and it kind of affected my concentration for everything else, especially when so many of the classes were being led by her and well, that's what happened." She looked up at him with a sideways glance trying to gauge his reaction before beginning to automatically straighten the files again.

He leaned back and observed her for several seconds. "Well, I can see how that would have done it," he said finally. "I'm sure you'll do better next time, especially if we work on some of that stuff beforehand." He watched her for a minute more, and she braced herself, wondering if he was going to ask anything else. Finally though, he'd straightened up, muttered something about helping with file boxes and walked away.

She sagged a little, releasing the tension once he was out of sight. _He believed me_ , she thought. _Thank God_. She shuddered for a moment, knowing that the time was long gone to ever admit what had happened in Munich before he'd arrived to bail her out. She would have been a lot less relieved if she'd been able to read his thoughts as he walked down the hall.

 _You just outright lied to my face, Amanda King, and one of these days, I'm going to find out why._


	2. Otherly

Author's Note: Congratulations on getting this far. Many have fallen by the wayside not wanting to see this particular adventure out to its end. Good news: while there is still some emotional stuff to get through, the worst is over and you may proceed into what is, at most, a PG-13 story. This is considerably less awful than any episode of, say, 'Criminal Minds' or "Law & Order." True love will always win eventually.

If you are here, thank you. This alternate universe has been received with an astonishing amount of support and I am grateful for that. Going forward, I have taken liberties with some of the scripts, because we can do that in AU. I have stuck to script as closely as possible but every so often there will be a small deviation to explain that whisper of "But what if..."

* * *

Amanda dragged herself home after a long day at the Agency helping to move everything back into place. She glanced at her watch – an hour and a half until her mother and the boys were due back from Vermont which meant not quite enough time to get something in the oven before she had to leave for the train station.

 _Ah well, the boys will be happy to get Marvin's and Mother and I can finish the leftovers from the other night._

She almost had to laugh thinking about the 'other night'; one minute she's checking the roast in the oven, the next she's on her way to the bowling alley where it turns out they're going to have to stop Armageddon.

 _Bet Lisson Lanes never thought they'd be the headquarters for stopping World War Three, not that they knew it…_

She was worried about Lee though; when she'd raced out into the garden a few days ago after Operation Possum had gone into effect, she'd been shocked by his appearance. He'd looked more like the Lee she'd met last year than the one who had slowly been becoming her friend over the last few months and he'd been vibrating with tension that hadn't lessened the longer it took for Francine to contact him. In fact, he'd really only started to relax once Yuri had shown up and he'd had something to do. She knew he loathed enforced inactivity, but there'd been something _more_ to it this time. The fact that he'd come to her was telltale enough, but he'd patently been looking for company when he'd asked her to come bowling.

"Well, it would look stupid, me going bowling alone."

Who was he kidding? He was in a suit jacket and he worried that being by himself would make him look stupid? She'd barely managed to resist rolling her eyes, but she knew he'd seen something of her incredulity in her expression because he'd jammed his hands in his pockets and given her that look, the one where he knew he'd been caught out and was hoping she wouldn't call him on it. She hadn't, because she didn't want him to get all huffy like he often did and send her away after all when she could see he needed her. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of Jamie when Joe had first left after they'd told the boys about the divorce; he used to appear silently observing her as if he thought she might vanish too. Lee had had that same haunted look like he'd been set adrift, but she felt like it wasn't anything to do with what was going on. What had happened on that mission that had taken him out of town? When Billy had asked him about it today, she could hear it in his voice, and hadn't been able to help looking up at him.

" _Fine. Typical Peacock Dance – nothing to it. You know how it is, Billy."_

She didn't know what a Peacock Dance was, but he had tensed up at that question like someone had hit him with an electric shock. She recognized the tightness in his voice because it reminded her of her own fake brightness when she was asked an uncomfortable question, which was pretty much every conversation with her mother these days honestly, but Lee didn't have a reason to lie to Billy, did he?

She stared out the window at the spot where he usually appeared, and thought about that equally uncomfortable conversation with him about Station One. He'd turned the tables on her there and she wondered when he'd suddenly gotten so observant about her behavior. Of all the times for her to rub off on him, it had to be that. At least he'd believed her babbling tale of being stressed by Francine's ninja attack on her, which was probably because it was just close enough to the truth that she'd been convincing. And really, at this point, Munich was a closed book, right? She didn't need to tell him about how badly that had really all gone – it had been bad enough being arrested for counterfeiting, but if he or Billy ever found out how badly it had almost gone, that would be the end of her burgeoning career at the Agency. And the dumbest part of all was that the counterfeiting arrest would never have happened if she'd just paid attention to what that policeman had asked her in the first place…

* * *

She'd arrived in Munich on the Wednesday morning, well ahead of the Saturday drop she was there to make, but long enough to establish her presence as an innocuous American tourist, just there to soak up the sights and sounds of the Christmas market. It had been fun, wandering the streets again, this time with no mother or boys in tow, although she still half-expected Lee to pop out of a side street the way he had last time and sweep her into something crazy. She still had her sneaking suspicions about why they'd felt it necessary to go to such elaborate lengths to get her here last time. Lee had explained it away as not wanting her to act suspicious, but he knew perfectly well she could lie to her mother now with barely a tremor in her voice – all she would have had to do was respond enthusiastically to her family's excitement about the trip but for some reason he'd kept her in the dark until she got there. He was still a funny one, that Lee Stetson – it could have been that he was worried she wouldn't have allowed her family to be used, which to be fair she probably wouldn't have, but it could just as easily have been Lee sneakily trying to be nice and let her have a holiday with her family at someone else's expense. It was certainly a trip she could never have afforded to take them on, not on her part-time Agency salary.

She found herself in front of the Glockenspiel just as the hour started to chime although it was almost drowned out by the music and the crowds at the Christmas market that had just kicked off that week. The Agency must have pulled special strings to get her a hotel room because even this far ahead of Christmas, the streets were heaving with people mingling among the market stalls. It was only because Phillip and Jamie had dragged her here so many times during that trip that she'd been able to pick out the tune of the chiming bells as the figures circled their well-worn paths. She had napped briefly that afternoon, but now it was 7:00 p.m. and she was wide awake and ravenously hungry; she remembered this from last time, the way the jet lag made you sleepy and hungry at the oddest times as if your inner self was still on American time but your outer self was responding to the visual cues of light and dark so you wanted dinner at 6:00 pm and then again at midnight.

The streets were more densely packed with market shoppers than the Mall on the 4th of July. It smelled wonderful though with the mixed scents of roasting chestnuts (who knew that was a real thing?) and pretzels and sausages and the further she walked, the hungrier she got. She wished she could have stopped to simply buy something from a cart, but in her exhausted state at arrival, it had completely slipped her mind to cash any of her traveler's checks for deutschmarks and she only had a small amount left from the petty cash she'd been given when she paid for the cab from the airport. That left her credit card and to be honest, the crowds were so overwhelming that it would be a relief to sit somewhere to eat without being jostled constantly. It had taken her four tries to find a restaurant that didn't just immediately tell her there was no room; at the fourth one, the harried waiter had looked around for a moment and then asked her to "wait, bitte, Madame". She'd watched him walk to a small table occupied by a striking brunette woman and lean down to ask her a question. After a quick glance towards Amanda, the woman had smiled at him and nodded and he had walked back to where she was standing. "We are very busy tonight with the crowds from the market, ja? But if you would be happy to share a table, we would be happy to serve you Madame."

Startled, she had glanced back at the table where the woman was now smiling at her and motioning her to come sit. "Well, all right, thank you, that would be very nice." He had walked her back through the restaurant as she hurriedly tried to remember any of the polite phrases in German Francine had tried to teach her.

"Guten Abend, Madame," she'd begun before coming to a stop as the other woman had trilled with laughter.

"Don't look so panicky – I'm American," she'd said, motioning the seat opposite her. "Sit down and keep me company. It'll be relief to get to speak English after spending all day with German businessmen."

"Thank you so much for letting me sit with you. I really didn't think through how busy it would be with the market going on. I'm Amanda," replied Amanda holding out her hand.

The woman squeezed her hand back and answered, "Nice to meet you Amanda, I'm Lee."

She couldn't help it – she'd laughed out loud, only to try and rein it back in when she saw the quizzical look on her table companion's face. "I'm so sorry – it's not that it's funny. It's just that the man I work with at home is named Lee too and the two of you really couldn't be more different."

Lee's face had cleared at the explanation and she'd smiled back, blue eyes sparkling with humor. "Well, at least I know you won't forget my name in a hurry then!"

It had been nice to have company for dinner. Lee – Other Lee, as Amanda had to think of her – was in Munich for work with the American company she worked for, and she'd snuck out of her hotel to avoid her co-workers for a quiet dinner "away from all the testosterone" as she put it. Amanda stuck to her cover story about having time off from her job as an administrative assistant for a government department and implied she was having a solo trip to get over a recent divorce. She was trying very hard to remember Lee's ( _my Lee's_ – _gosh this was confusing_ ) constant admonishments about how any casual contact could be suspicious - although she couldn't imagine how on earth the KGB could have set up a scenario like this- but no matter, it gave her a chance to try out playing a cover with no pressure.

The two of them turned out to have a lot of interests in common and the evening sped by. After lingering over their coffee, they wandered back out on to the street which were getting emptier by the second as the night drew to a close.

"This is my corner," said Amanda, gesturing up the street to her hotel further up the block. "Thank you again for letting me sit with you, and not just because it would have been hours until I'd gotten to eat. It was a bit unnerving to think about going out to eat alone at a restaurant to be honest – I guess having the boys and my mother around all the time means I'm still not good at being alone."

Lee nodded along with what she was saying and then said, "I know how you feel, I do it all the time with my line of work and it's still not the most comfortable thing in the world." She smiled shyly and went on, more tentatively, "Would you like to meet up for dinner again tomorrow? These meetings are so dull and the men in them are even duller – it's been like a breath of fresh air to have someone normal to talk to."

Amanda paused just for a second, wondering if that was a good idea before shaking herself. It was just a simple dinner – and it would actually help with her cover, so what was the harm? "I'd love to," she answered. "How about I keep an eye out for somewhere that isn't quite so close to the market while I'm sightseeing tomorrow and maybe we won't have such a hard time getting a table?"

Lee's face had lit up at her reply. "That would be great. I'm staying at the Platzl Hotel just down Sparkassenstrasse, why don't we meet in the lobby around 6:00?"

"It's a date, Lee," she answered and then laughed inwardly – at the mental image of how many times Lee-my-Lee had said "It's not a _date_ , Amanda!" Other-Lee must have seen something of that laughter on her face and looked quizzical so she'd quickly covered, "Sorry, I guess I'm just not used to using the word 'date' yet."

Lee had giggled in response, "Well, I'm glad to be your first then" and they'd parted ways with a wave and a smile.

She'd made notes on everything that happened in the evening and as much of the conversation as she could remember when she got back to the hotel. If it did turn out to be the most convoluted KGB plot ever, she'd be able to tell Lee-my-Lee everything and if it really was just a simple vacation friendship struck up with a stranger, well, it was good practice for the note taking and the memory work.

She had drifted happily through Munich most of the next day, armed with her guidebook and camera, looking every inch the tourist which she really was, at least until the drop on Saturday. She found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the Hofgarten, far enough away from the city center to be likely free of crowds that evening. Eventually the Marienplatz drew her back as it always did and she spent the afternoon happily browsing the stalls. She found the toy shop in one of the side streets that the boys had loved and remembered how much they'd been mesmerized by the tiny Alpine village set up with moving cable cars and trains and on impulse decided to buy them one of the miniature train sets for Christmas. She'd been travelling so much these past few months and they'd been so good about it, although her mother deserved so much more for taking up all the slack. With that thought in mind, she walked back out into the crowded market and began the search for the perfect gift for her.

The search was fruitful –she found an exquisite tiny hand-carved nativity scene, but when she heard the glockenspiel start to chime the half-hour, she looked up startled and realized it was already 5:30 and she'd have no time to go back to her hotel to drop the bag with the train set before she was due to meet Lee. _Other Lee_ , she still couldn't help adding. _Maybe I should start thinking of them as HeLee and SheLee?_ She giggled out loud as she hurried along the Sparkassenstrasse to Lee's hotel.

She barely made it there for 6:00 and found Lee already waiting in the lobby. "Sorry, have you been waiting long? I completely lost track of time and then I left it too late to go dump my things or even change my clothes but I did find a restaurant that's a bit off the beaten path so…" She paused as Lee held a hand up laughing, a gesture so familiar from her Lee that she felt a wave of homesickness.

"Amanda, it's fine. I just got here. I would have just ordered a drink and waited for you, you know. But what on earth is in the giant bag?"

"Oh! That's a train set – I got it for the boys as a Christmas present. Good thing it's not any bigger or we'd have to get a table for three tonight!"

"Well, that's easily solved – why don't we just go leave it in my room for now and you can pick it up on your way back from dinner?"

"That would be great," said Amanda gratefully. "It's not just big, it's getting kind of heavy too."

Bag disposed of in Lee's room, they went out into the night air and headed for dinner. Amanda kept her entertained with stories of the people watching she'd done throughout the day and the amazing trinkets she'd seen but hadn't been able to afford. Lee, in turn did imitations of the long winded German businessmen she and her colleagues had been negotiating with all day. They had both laughed a lot and the bottle of wine they shared had emptied quickly, which was probably why Amanda was all the way back at her own hotel before she remembered that the bag with the train set was still sitting in Lee's room. She glanced at her watch to see if it was now too late to call over to her but then shrugged. They had already made plans to meet for dinner again the following night and she could get it then.

She did pick up the phone to call home though and got the full scoop on everything she was missing as everyone fought for their turn to talk to her, then hung up and called Lee.

He'd sounded slightly distracted when he picked up and she'd immediately begun to apologize. "I'm sorry, I forgot what time it was there – you're probably getting ready for a date or something, but you said I should check in and let you know how it was going."

"Amanda, it's fine," he answered and she knew from the way he said it that he was holding a hand up, the same way Other Lee had earlier. She stifled the laugh that image provoked as he went on, "Not a date tonight anyway, just a surveillance job. I'm just fighting with the coffee maker trying to get a thermos full for the car." She could hear him cursing slightly under his breath – the coffee maker was obviously coming out on top.

"Turn it off for a second and then check under the filter and make sure the bottom isn't clogged with grounds. When you put too much in ( _and you always do_ , she added silently), it spills over the sides and stops it draining." There was a pause while he did what she said and then a small noise of triumph.

"That did the trick, thanks. So how's Munich? Wait, why are you up so late? Isn't it going on midnight there?"

"Yes, but I'm still all jumbled up with the jet lag and I just got in from dinner with Other Lee and I had to call the boys and then I remembered I should call you, so here we are."

"Otherly? What's otherly mean?" He sounded completely confused by her ramble this time and she couldn't help giggling.

"Not otherly. Other. Lee. I made friends with a woman the other day and we went out for dinner tonight, but her name is Lee as well and in my head I just think of her as Other Lee."

"Amanda, what have I told you about strangers making casual contact? This could be Alan Squires all over again." She could feel his exasperation humming down the phone line.

"Yes, Lee, I know, Lee," she said with exaggerated patience. "But since I initiated the contact by walking into a restaurant – look, you know what, never mind, I'll explain it all when I'm home next week, all right? But now I'm going to bed and you need to go watch whoever it is you're watching tonight."

There was silence at the end of the phone line and she knew he was struggling between wanting to ask her more about it and needing to get out the door. "Fine," he said finally. "But it needs to be in your report, even if you think it's nothing."

"Yes Boss, she said in a mocking tone. "Good night, Lee. Be careful out there okay?"

"Yes, Esterhaus, I'll be careful," came the equally mocking reply, but she could hear the smile in his voice now. "Good night, Amanda. I'll see you Tuesday."

He hung up and as she slowly put down the receiver, she wondered what he'd meant by those last words. She was flying home Saturday afternoon so she'd see him on Monday at the office, wouldn't she? She shrugged slightly; maybe it just meant he had something to do on Monday. _Darn it,_ she thought suddenly. She'd meant to ask him if he thought it would be okay for her to take the train to Salzburg tomorrow to do one of those Sound of Music tours that she hadn't gotten to do when they were looking for Emily. Better not chance it, she decided; there was probably some Agency rule about crossing borders on a mission. Wistfully, she tucked the brochure she'd found for it back in her suitcase and went to bed.

Dinner with Other Lee had been even more convivial since she'd finished with her work for the week and was ready to cut loose. She had gotten a call that day about a new job in Paris and was bubbling over with excitement about that. Amanda was trying to be more circumspect since she still had the exchange to do in the morning at the train station – a coincidence she still found highly amusing – but somehow her wine glass kept getting topped up and before she knew it, she was squinting at the bill, wondering if they had in fact actually drunk two bottles of wine, plus those little schnapps things that Lee had insisted they have to toast their last night in Munich and her possible new job. She knew they had when she got up from the table and realized she was barely able to walk in a straight line. The cobblestone streets of the area they were in made for an extra clumsy walk back to Lee's hotel to collect the bag with the train set but they had laughed like idiots the whole way, drawing amused glances from passersby as they took turns catching the other from falling as they literally tripped along the streets.

"Stay for a coffee," Lee had urged once they were back in the room. "I'll get room service. I can't let you back out into the street in your condition. You shouldn't drink and walk," she'd said with a shaking finger and a pretend serious expression and so Amanda had collapsed into one of the chairs and they had stayed up talking even longer, although the sobering effects of the coffee had been offset by Lee's regrettable raid on the mini bar and at some point they had migrated to lying on the bed to try and keep the room from spinning.

She didn't know at what point she'd drifted off but she woke slowly to the sensation of a soft touch on her face. Still half asleep, she'd found herself murmuring "Lee?" as his lips brushed hers in the very pleasant dream she was having.

"Yes, Amanda?" Dream Lee had answered but somehow she knew the voice was wrong and instead of letting herself slip more deeply into the dream, she'd struggled to wake up. She'd opened her eyes to find herself looking straight into deep blue eyes.

"Oh my God!" she'd struggled to push up off the bed but Lee had put out a hand to stop her.

"No, just Lee," had come the laughing reply.

"Not my Lee," she'd answered without thinking and Lee's eyes had narrowed ever so slightly.

"But I could be your Lee," she'd said, dropping her head and biting Amanda's collarbone with a sharp nip. "Come on, I know what you Peyton Place housewives are like." She'd laughed softly as her hands had continued to move around Amanda's body with a confidence that suggested she'd done this kind of thing before.

"Not this one," said Amanda firmly, getting her hands onto Lee's shoulders and pushing her away. She was still groggy and drunk enough that it was not done with anything approaching cat-like grace, but the fact that Lee was equally inebriated was helpful in her escape.

Lee has leaned back on her elbows and stared at her petulantly. "I thought you liked me."

"I did, but not like this" answered Amanda, looking around wildly for her coat and purse.

"So Little Lezzy Lee strikes out again," said Lee sadly, dropping heavily back onto the pillow. "Story of my life. I should have stuck with the sure thing with those German businessmen."

 _Maybe you're more like my Lee than I thought_ was her immediate irreverent thought but she quashed it. "I'm sorry if you think I misled you, but I really didn't mean to," babbled Amanda, even as she wondered why she was the one apologizing and shot out of the room.

The cold night air had the much needed sobering effect she needed and, as she hurried along the silent streets back to her own hotel, she wondered, not for the first time in her life, what it was about her that attracted the emotionally wounded. The night clerk gave her a dubious look as she entered the lobby and she wondered how upset she looked as she took the key with a quiet "Gute Nacht" and heard him mutter "Guten Morgen" in a flat voice as she turned away. She could feel the flush creeping up the back of her neck as she waited for the elevator. _Whoever said the Germans were humorless?_ She got to the safety of her room and glanced in the bathroom mirror, noticing for the first time that her blouse had most of the buttons undone and she'd probably just flashed that clerk downstairs.

She finished peeling off her clothes and dropped them on top of her suitcase ready to pack in the morning, then slipped under the eiderdown duvet. She thought between the late hour and the liquor she'd fall asleep quickly but sleep eluded her as she kept rehashing conversations in her mind, wondering what she'd said that Lee had so badly misconstrued as encouragement.

" _It's a date, Lee." "Well, I'm glad I could be your first."_

" _Not my Lee." "But I could be your Lee."_

 _Oh God, Lee!_ She groaned out loud. _Am I going to have to put that in any report? He'll kill me._

Already in her head she could her him lecturing her: "Amanda, a good agent is prepared for anything. A good agent recognizes a contact when they see one. A good agent is prepared for both offense and defense. A good agent…"

"A good agent doesn't get smashed drunk in a foreign city and let themselves get almost seduced by someone they've only known two days," she said out loud in the darkness and pulled the pillow over her face to muffle her scream of frustration at her own stupidity. The voices continued to taunt her until she finally fell into a restless dream-filled sleep.

There must have been some kind of noise that finally woke her or maybe the way the morning light was coming through the half-closed curtains, but she woke to a pounding head, due in equal parts to the alcohol and the lack of sleep. She rolled over and stared at the clock for a full thirty seconds before realizing with horror that she had overslept and her exchange was supposed to take place in less than half an hour. She actually cursed as she leapt out of the bed and scrambled into the clothes she'd been wearing the night before since they were handy and, after extricating her delivery from the lining of her suitcase, she had run out of her room and through the crowded streets of Munich to the station, arriving five minutes late. Her contact had been sharp with her, not very happy with her for appearing so flustered and noticeable in the crowd and slightly suspicious of her when she momentarily forgot the code phrase. He'd obviously decided she was just a neophyte though and taken the envelope in a brusque manner before he was gone, jumping onto a train at the last possible second before its doors closed and it had pulled out of the station.

She had thought that was the end of the worst possible day, but from there, it had only gotten worse. Returning to her hotel, she realized she only had two hours to pack and make it to the airport for her flight home. Cramming everything into her suitcase haphazardly, it was only then that she realized that the train set and nativity carving were still in Lee's hotel. Choking back a quiet sob of frustration, she packed up her last few items, then went downstairs and back out to the market, stopping first to buy a small figurine for her mother then on to the toy store to buy a replacement train set. Scrabbling through her purse to pay, she realized she didn't have enough deutschmarks left to cover the price.

"It is no problem, Madame," said the store clerk, pointing to the bills sticking up out of her wallet. "We take American currency in this store."

Amanda had gratefully plucked the two $20 bills from her wallet and pushed them across the counter. It left her with no cash for the cab ride home, but maybe she could call Lee for help once she was there. _Or not_ , she though, as the memory of the previous evening rushed back. It was going to take her all weekend just to come up with a report that didn't make her sound like a complete idiot and she certainly didn't want to see him before she could decide what to say about the whole Other Lee debacle. She'd call her mother from the airport to see if she could get one of the neighbors to come out to Dulles and get her.

At the airport, she had gone through security, heaving a sigh of relief once she was on the other side of all the screenings and on her way home at last, and was sitting in the waiting area that she had looked up to find the police detective looming over her.

"Frau King? Amanda King? Could you please come with us, bitte? We have a few questions for you."

It hadn't seemed possible but the next 24 hours had been worse than the ones before. Somehow the police were convinced that the American money she had used was counterfeit and although she kept explaining that it couldn't possibly have been, that she had gotten it from an American bank less than four days ago, they had just taken her statement and led her to processing. The female police officer had led her to a small room and made her take off her clothes to be checked for contraband and had then raked her eyes up and down Amanda making notes on distinguishing marks, Amanda supposed, before stopping and pointing to her collarbone.

"This mark? What has caused this?"

Amanda craned her head trying to see what she was pointing at but it was just out of her line of vision. "I have a mark?"

"Frau King, we must make notes on all marks on our prisoners when they come in so we cannot be accused of causing them later," explained the police woman in patient tones. "Now what has caused that mark?" She led her to a small mirror on the wall and with sinking heart, Amanda recognized the bite mark Lee had inflicted the night before.

"That's a hickey," she answered in a mortified voice and then seeing the look of incomprehension on the police woman's face, she'd tried to explain further. "It's like a bite."

"Ah! Knutschfleck!" the woman had said and scribbled a note on her sheets. She looked up to meet Amanda's eyes with a knowing grin. "Love bite, yes?"

"Yes," sighed Amanda. _Oh God, now_ _that's_ _on my police report. And I have a_ _police_ _report_. _What else could happen?_

She barely managed to keep from bursting into tears when she'd called the Agency and the night operator had put her through to Billy's personal number. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I really didn't know they were counterfeit." She'd babbled for several more minutes as he fired question after question at her before finally reassuring her that he was sure it was just a mix-up and they'd send someone to sort it out. She was so distraught that she completely forgot to ask him to contact her mother until after she hung up.

She hadn't known how much she'd needed to see Lee until he walked down the corridor the next morning after she'd spent 24 hours in jail, now on her third day in the same clothes and anxious to the point of insanity at how badly everything had gone. But then she'd seen the expression on his face and instead of jumping up to greet him, she'd found herself cowering back into the metal cot, wishing the ground would swallow her up. He'd been eerily calm at first, which had rapidly given way to anger and she wasn't sure why but it seemed best to let him vent until he snapped out the comment about how counterfeiting louses up everybody's economy as if he believed she'd done it on purpose. That was the moment that she'd finally given into all the bottled up emotion of the last two days and started to fight back. She was determined not to cry in front of him because she knew he'd think that was fighting dirty and she was doing a pretty good job of _not_ crying in frustration right up until the moment when she had and he'd backed off ungracefully.

He'd watched silently as the guards had led her out of the cell and released her into his custody and then he'd asked to see the police report and she had tried to sink into the floor while he read it over, before starting to question the police woman who was in handling the discharge.

"Sorry, can you translate this part for me? My German is a little rusty," he'd said, flashing the constable his most winning smile, the one she hadn't seen since his arrival.

 _Oh God, please don't let it be the love bite thing,_ she prayed silently _._

"Here it is saying that the manager says the brown-haired American woman paid for the bill with American dollars and it was only after she had left that he realized some of the bills were, you know, fälschen?"

"Fake?" supplied Lee.

"Yes, fake," said the police woman gratefully.

"And how did you connect Frau King to this if she paid in cash?" he asked

"Oh, that is here, in the report also," said the constable helpfully pointing. "The other half of the bill was paid with her credit card, you see?"

That was the moment when Amanda had seen it all so clearly: paying the restaurant bill the night before and watching Lee pay her share with a stack of American dollars after the waiter said it was fine. They had the _wrong_ brown-haired woman and she didn't have the proof that any of it had happened that way and Other Lee had probably already left for her flight to Paris and this Lee – who was definitely not My Lee right now - had just flown 9 hours and 45 minutes away from a long weekend in the Poconos and she'd probably just caused an international incident because she'd just assumed they were coming after her for the money she'd spent in the toy store and _what the hell was she going to do now_? She could feel herself swaying and wondered if she was going to faint. She pulled her shirt collar up, unconsciously trying to make sure the hickey was covered and as she'd lifted her arm to do so, she'd suddenly been overcome with the smell of Other Lee's perfume which had stuck to her clothes and took her straight back into that hotel room and the moment she'd opened her eyes.

She must have made some kind of noise of horror because Lee had turned to look at her, all reassurances now, and said it was fine, he'd get it all straightened out and let's get out of here, shall we? She'd followed him out of the police station where blind panic sent her into defensive mode, trying to explain that she hadn't meant to do any of it and she hadn't known the bills were fake and he'd gone on nodding and she knew he wasn't really listening. Then, just when she thought it was safe, that damn detective had come out and asked her about her statement and she wondered if Lee was going to make the connection between the police statement and hers describing two different places but thank the lord, he'd been so out of it with the long flight and still being kind of mad that he hadn't clued in.

"Lee?" She took a deep breath, trying to gather up the nerve to tell him what had happened and then his agent face had settled back into place and her courage had fled.

"I need to call my mother," she'd said finally.

* * *

She sipped her tea, thinking back to those whirlwind few days of chasing modern-day Nazis where she'd been more worried about the increasing look of sadness in Lee's face as he'd taken in the complete self-destruction and final betrayal of his old friend, Harry. It seemed sometimes like Lee was doomed to be disappointed in everyone and she'd worried about adding to that if he ever realized just how badly she had almost bungled the world's easiest mission but somehow, unbelievably, he never had. Not only that but he'd been quite complimentary – well as complimentary as he could ever manage to be with her – about her part in helping to figure it out and then finally they had been back in Munich, getting ready to leave, and the phone had rung..

"Hi, Billy," she heard him say. "Yeah, we're just getting ready to leave for the airport now. What? Oh, come on, Billy, seriously? " She'd looked across to see him rubbing the back of his neck, and knew Lee wasn't going home anytime soon. He'd hung up eventually after a bit of back and forth and then turned to her with a tired look.

"Amanda?"

"Oh no." She hadn't been able to stop it escaping.

"Oh, yes," he answered. "How would you feel about a quick trip to London on our way home?"

"London? England?"

"No, London, Ohio. Of course, London, England. Billy needs me to go in as an American businessman and I'll need a secretary."

"Oh, Lee, I don't have anything with me to wear as a secretary. Everything I have is for playing a tourist."

Lee fished out his wallet and waved a credit card at her. "Not a problem. Billy said he'd arrange to have someone collect stuff from your house and courier it over and in the meantime, Agency expense account. You can go shopping at Harrod's again." He'd stopped and suddenly grinned, just like his old self. "Unless, of course, you're really in a hurry to go home right away and explain to your mother about how you got arrested?"

"When's the flight to London?" she'd answered and just like that, they'd been back on the old footing.

* * *

She thought the 'sex scandal' with Lord Bromfield was going to be the death of her. It didn't help that Lee thought it was hilarious she was in one when "all you have to do is take one look to know it's ridiculous." As insulting as that was, it had made it clear to her that she could never tell him the truth about Munich – he obviously didn't see her in that light and if he didn't believe a man could want her that way, he was certainly never going to believe that a woman would either, no matter how elastic his personal views on the subject. She'd thought the detour to London would be just what she needed to calm down properly before seeing her mother but everything about it had just made it worse. Fretting about the story getting into the American papers had been so much more awful than just trying to explain to her mother about her arrest. That at least would have been contained to just her mother but this was going to be everyone who'd ever known her and being on the front page of American tabloids would definitely mean the end of any Agency career. And then there was that whole stupid conversation about how people who care about each other want to touch each other; he hadn't been able to end that one fast enough. Here she was dreaming about him, so much that she would have given in if it had been him that night in Munich and in return, he saw her as 'window dressing', nothing more. No, he would never believe Munich hadn't been her fault.

On the other hand, he must have thought she'd done all right on that job too despite that because he'd been the one to personally bring her the invitation for training at Station One. That had seemed amazing and she'd been so excited but then Francine had jumped out and grabbed her and all the compulsion to flee had come rushing back. She hadn't really lied to Lee that morning when he'd asked. It _was_ the attack from Francine that had sent her off kilter that whole weekend, but it hadn't been flashbacks to the attack in her living room. Francine had been wearing the same perfume as Other Lee and every time she smelled it, she couldn't keep down the bubble of panic. It had seemed like Francine had been appointed her own personal monster under the bed that weekend, always nearby, always wearing that scent and sending her heart racing, every damn time. At the time she hadn't known why the effect hadn't worn off with constant exposure but now she knew. She knew the minute Lee had started to question her this morning that it wasn't just panic, it was fear that he'd find out she'd lied about everything that had gone on in Munich and she'd lose someone she considered one of her best friends.

 _Friends_ , she repeated to herself. _Just friends, nothing more_.

She glanced at her watch and realized it was time to go collect her mother and the boys and started to fish around for her car keys.

 _It's ok, we're still friends, he believed me this morning_. But she couldn't quite shake the feeling that maybe he hadn't.


	3. Double Talk

"Emily, do you think Lee's all right?"

They were driving back from the paint store after Lee and Emily had shown up just in time to keep those two hoodlums from harming her. Even in the midst of worrying about him, Amanda had to smile at the mental image of Lee in his disguise as Emily's toy boy companion and the crazy act the two of them had put on, like something straight out of 'La Cage Aux Folles'. Emily had opted to drive back to the house with her in the station wagon, claiming she was far too old to be clambering in and out of the Corvette if she didn't need to and Amanda decided to take advantage of the opportunity for some uninterrupted conversation.

"What do you mean, Dear?" Emily made the question sound innocent but Amanda heard the slight edge in her voice.

"I don't know exactly. Something's bothering him but I haven't been able to figure out what and I thought maybe you'd see something I don't because you're such old friends." She was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove. "He was away a few weeks ago and when he came back, he was like the old Lee, stand-offish and short-tempered, you know? But at the same time, he's not really comfortable being that way anymore, so he keeps doing things like being really grumpy and then overdoing it trying to apologize, but without actually apologizing. When he showed up to invite me to the Embassy party, it was like he was picking a fight even while he was trying to convince me to go with him. He gave me this whole song and dance about being dumped by his girlfriend of the week rather than just say he wanted me to come so I could see you. Am I even making sense?"

Emily had followed the ramble without any difficulty and found herself reflecting once again what an incredibly perceptive person Amanda was. She remembered how haggard Lee had looked when he'd left London only a few weeks previously and wondered why he'd reneged on his promise to her. "He didn't tell you anything about where he'd been?" she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral but noticed Amanda giving her a sharp sideways look. _Damn perceptive_ , she thought.

"No, but then again, he came home and walked straight into, well, into a bit of an international incident." Amanda's lips twitched slightly at the idea that she was referring to stopping certain nuclear annihilation as "a bit of an incident".

Emily had heard rumors over the last week or so about Russian activities in Washington and began to wonder at how much of it was true. Even MI5 had only been told that Ilya Kreschenko was dead but very little else. "Well, I can't tell you much, but I can tell you he was with me," she admitted, finally. "And it wasn't an easy time for him; it raked open a lot of old wounds. I'd hoped when he left that he was close enough to you to let you help him, but maybe I was expecting too much."

"Maybe not," answered Amanda, thoughtfully. "Like I said, there was a lot going on when he got back but he came to me looking for help with it and usually I'm the last person he drags into things unless Mr. Melrose makes him." She remembered that vague feeling she'd had that he wanted company, not help.

"Does Lee discuss his past at all with you?" asked Emily abruptly.

"Not much," admitted Amanda, wondering where that question had come from. "He pretty much shuts down any personal questions, but every so often he lets something slip by accident. I've figured out a lot by just noticing what he refuses to talk about, if you see what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean. And to not quite answer your question, I think he'll be fine if he has a friend like you in his corner."

Amanda took advantage of the red light to turn and study Emily's face before nodding in understanding and turning away with no further questions.

Later that night, Emily watched as Amanda took in the full effect of Lee's disguise as a homeless man with a squeal of disbelief, then reached out absentmindedly to touch the rough moustache.

"I thought I was the beard in this relationship," she heard her say quietly and watched as Lee laughed and gave the fingers resting on his face a quick kiss. In that instant, to her intense relief, she saw it for the first time since coming to Washington – the tiny spark of warmth was back in his eyes. She'd been right about Amanda's perceptive abilities after all.

* * *

Months had passed and they were sitting in the Corvette, watching the suburban bungalow the Soviets were using as a safe house. A thermos of coffee was propped between them and the radio was playing quietly. Lee wondered if Amanda had fallen asleep, she'd been so quiet for so long, head leaning on the passenger side window but she must have just been listening to the conversation between the disk jockeys because out of the blue she suddenly said in a really sad voice, "He has AIDS, you know."

He almost dropped the cup of coffee he was holding from the unexpectedness of the comment. "What? Who has?" He panicked, his brain racing through every possibility of who she might know who could have contracted it.

She gestured towards the radio. "Rock Hudson. They're talking about how terrible he looks on Dynasty but nobody's recognizing it. It's so obvious but I don't know how they're not recognizing it."

"Oh come on, Amanda," he bluffed. "He can't possibly have AIDS. The only people who…" and then she turned her head to look straight at him and the words had died in his throat.

She looked away again, staring out the windshield. "Poor man. It's such a horrible way to die."

"How would you know?" he asked, suddenly a little annoyed that she could talk about it so casually. As if she could know what it was like to have it hanging over your head every day like the Sword of Damocles, wondering which of your friends was going to be the next one to show up in the obituaries.

She gave a small laugh, but didn't turn back to face him again. "You know for an intelligence agent, you really did a bad job of reading my file, Lee." She let him stew on that for a minute or two before finally adding, "My brother J.C. died of AIDS three years ago."

He couldn't contain his shock at that. "That's not in your file! I mean, your brother is listed as deceased but not from that."

She pulled her feet up onto the car seat now and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Yeah, well, the Agency didn't need to know that, so I just listed the cause of death that's on his death certificate, 'died of complications from pneumonia'. I just thought you'd recognize it when you saw it. I mean, how crazy is it that so many young men die of pneumonia all the time now and everyone just pretends that's normal?"

"What happened to him?"

She rocked gently on the seat, silent again and then started to tell the story. "He was working with the International Red Cross after he graduated from college. Mostly Central America – a lot of it in Honduras but in the Caribbean too. We hardly saw him for five years and then one day, he just came home to die." She snuck a sideways look at him and whatever expression she could see in the shadows, she decided to keep going. "He lived with me at first. We made the living room into a hospital room and Mother and I looked after him."

"You let him stay in your house?" Lee knew Amanda was an Earth mother but this surprised him.

"You sound like my ex," she replied. "That was one of the last big fights we had before the divorce." She began mimicking her ex-husband's tone. "You're letting him stay in the house, Amanda? What about the boys, Amanda? How are you going to explain that to them? And how can you expose them – what if they catch it?" She stopped, a sob catching in her throat. "He could be such an idiot sometimes."

Lee was momentarily distracted by the mention of the ex-husband; Amanda almost never talked about him. What was his name? Joe? Jim? Jim, probably since Jamie would be named after him. He really did need to read her file again sometimes. It was one thing to tease hear about Dean, but he could at least get the important names right. He realized he'd let the silence go on too long.

"Was it was hard? Looking after him, I mean?"

"Oh yeah, it was hard. We couldn't tell anyone, of course, because we would have been run out of the neighborhood. J.C. used to tease Mother all the time, 'What's the hardest part of having AIDS? Convincing your mother you're Haitian'."

Lee couldn't help the snort of laughter – he thought he'd heard every black humor joke going but that one took him by surprise. Amanda started to laugh too, and was still half smiling when she went on with the story.

"Have you ever been to Long Bridge Park? You now the one by the 14th Street Bridge?"

"Yeah," answered Lee slowly, not sure where she was going with the question.

"Well, if you go down the south end, there's a parking lot and when the planes come into land at National, they're so low to the ground there that you would swear you could reach up and touch them. And they're really loud, you know? So sometimes, when it all got too much, I'd drive down there and lean against the fence and wait for a plane to come overhead and then when it did, I'd scream as loud as I could and get it all out. I must have looked crazy but it felt great."

"Like the train scene in 'Cabaret'?"

Amanda chuckled. "Just like that. I should have guessed you'd be a Liza fan."

"Screw Maximillian!" laughed Lee, putting on his best British accent.

"I do!"

"So do I!"

And they had both started to laugh before lapsing into silence. Lee waited to see if she was going to keep talking until he finally ventured to ask, "So did you nurse him right to the end?" He didn't know why he wanted to know, it was just seeing this new side to Amanda that intrigued him; he wondered for the briefest second if she'd look after him like that but pushed the thought aside. Of course she wouldn't, it wasn't like he was family.

"No," she sighed. "We wanted to, but it was so difficult once he was so sick, and he didn't want the boys or Mother around to see it so he went into a hospice. Like I said, it's a horrible way to die."

They were both quiet for a long time after that, both of them staring out the front window at the safe house. He thought there wasn't going to be any more conversation when he heard her say softly, "You're careful, right?"

"What?" He hadn't understood the question at first.

"When you're dating – you're careful, aren't you?" He turned his head to find her observing him, waiting for his answer. "I worry about you, you know."

He was about to bluster out some type of pat answer when he saw her expression and knew she wouldn't believe him. "When did you figure it out?" he almost breathed out the question. She raised a brow in confusion. "About me? When did you know?"

"Oh that. Pretty much from that first party you made me go to, the costume one, you remember? When I was supposed to bring the package?"

He didn't believe her at first. "Oh come on! There is no way!"

"I'd been to enough parties with J.C. over the years, Lee. You were getting hit on pretty evenly by both men and women and the way your eyes tracked people; most people wouldn't notice but I was used to seeing it with J.C., so…" she shrugged. "And then there was that time we were living at the Betsy Ross Estates and you made that crack about having a kitchen done by a French guy while you went skiing."

"I was kidding!" he protested.

He could see her smiling in the dim light. "I know, but come on, Lee, that is not a straight guy joke. And I was the fruit fly often enough with J.C.'s group of friends to know." She waited until she could see his answering smile, her own eyes twinkling back at him, before she turned back to watch the safe house again. "I thought you were just gay until Eva showed up. Up until then I'd assumed the girlfriends were fake but you'd obviously fallen hard for her. That was a surprise actually."

He wasn't sure he believed her but as he studied her profile, small snippets of conversation came back to him. " _I thought I was the beard in this relationship_."

"Yes," he said finally, picking up her hand and squeezing it.

"Yes, what?" she asked, in a confused tone, having obviously forgotten she'd asked him a question.

"Yes, I'm careful."

"Oh, right. Good." She squeezed his hand back and hadn't let go.

* * *

"So, Amanda suggested we all just get on the phone…"

"And we'll call them and if we're all calling we can get the thing done in half an hour and you won't have to worry anymore."

"Well, a half an hour won't cut it. Billy wants me to contact my non-Agency friends as well." He glanced at Amanda and watched her eyes widen in comprehension.

"Oh alright" said Francine with a smirk. "That's fine, here's what we'll do. You give us your black book, we'll divide it up and just start dialling."

Lee stared at the ground and muttered, "Books."

"Books," repeated Amanda without thinking. She watched Lee glance up at Francine and she began to see the problem. Who else was listed in those books?

"I have four of them." At last, he looked up to meet Amanda's eyes while Francine continued laughing and teasing him about the number of books. She could see the panic in his eyes and smiled, trying to calm him down without alerting Francine. Finally, Francine wrapped up their plan of action and headed back to the office.

"Now look, just don't worry because it's going to be all right," she said when they were finally alone. He took a deep breath, obviously about to tell her something when he was distracted by the reflection in the hot dog cart.

Now, later that afternoon, Francine had just left with one of the black books, still clearly enjoying flipping through the pages and chuckling over Lee's notations, but Amanda lingered, watching him flip through the two remaining ones.

"Francine doesn't know?"

He didn't even try to pretend he didn't understand what she was asking. "No."

"How is that possible? She's known you for _years_. You slept with her for heaven's sake." She regretted the comment as soon as it was out of her mouth.

"I slept with her _once_ , a very long time ago," he snapped. "And that was right after…" He stopped dead and slapped the books down on his desk and glared up at her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's none of my business. I just thought she knew you pretty well."

"Nobody knows me very well, Amanda. That's the way I like it." He could see he'd hurt her but he still wasn't ready to discuss it. He could only hope she'd still be ready to listen if he ever was.

"Okay," she'd said finally. "I'll go start on these. I'll be in Data getting all the addresses if you need me." He watched her walk out of the Q Bureau, desperate to call her back but knowing there was no point. He couldn't explain it to himself, how could he possibly begin to explain it to her?

* * *

Amanda had thought the explosion at the park has been the biggest shock she was going to get that week, but now, standing in the doorway of Lee's apartment, that seemed like nothing. Her whole world had just tilted on its axis as she stared at the woman who was obviously the new girlfriend Francine had mockingly nicknamed "Insomnia". The one he'd wanted to buy a dress for. She could feel the color drain out of her cheeks as they'd locked eyes and the woman had walked towards her, holding out her hand.

"Hello, I'm Leslie O'Connor."

"Hello. I'm Amanda King."

They'd both swiveled to look at Lee as he stammered out "Ahhhh, Amanda is my, uh, secretary." Amanda had cocked a brow at him, her look saying everything about how she felt about that designation, but he was obviously just trying to get rid of her now. "Well, I guess that wraps it up for today, Amanda." She could see it in his eyes – he was silently begging her to leave and honestly, she wanted to flee. "I'm going to call Billy and tell him you're on the way with that contract."

Leslie had kept talking over him, obviously enjoying Amanda's discomfort. "I'm a translator and I travel between Paris, Geneva and the Hague." They watched Lee disappear into the bedroom as Leslie continued wittering on about dresses and her hotel room and how full of surprises he was.

"Not as full of surprises as you," Amanda had finally snapped when he'd disappeared from the room. "What are you doing here and why are you suddenly Leslie?"

"Oh, I was always Leslie, Amanda. Don't you remember? Little Lezzy Lee? I always use Lee with my friends but it seemed silly for both of us to be Lee so I didn't bother." She glanced at the closed bedroom door and looked back at Amanda smirking. "So that's _My Lee_? I can't believe I didn't even think of that when I met him. I take it you never mentioned our little affair in Munich? Ah, I see from your face that you didn't"

Leslie began walking around the apartment; she'd obviously made herself familiar with the place because she wasn't even pausing as she pulled out another place setting and began putting it on the table.

"You must stay for dinner and tell me all the delicious things about him that he'd never tell me himself."

Amanda had clenched her hands into fists now as Leslie continued to taunt her; she could feel the blood pounding in her ears as Lee – _My_ _Lee_ , she thought furiously - walked back out and looked in horror at the extra place setting.

"Well, thanks for the lift Amanda, I'll see you in the morning." He'd taken hold of her arm and was walking her quickly towards the door. Amanda was torn between her overwhelming desire to run and wanting to dig her heels into the ground to stay and make sure Leslie didn't say anything to him, but he moved her inexorably out into the hallway.

"I've briefed Billy. We've got a team standing by in case O'Keefe calls." Amanda was quite willing to let him keep talking, trying to distract her while she got herself under control but realized that wasn't going to happen.

"She's not your type," she said finally.

"What do you mean not my type?"

"She's normal." She knew he'd misunderstood her when she watched the angry flush rise in his cheeks but she kept going, desperate to keep him from going back into the apartment and letting Leslie tell him anything about her. She knew it was ridiculous but she couldn't stop. "She's a normal person. She won't understand you, she would never understand what you do."

"She has a top security clearance from the UN as a diplomatic translator, she can guess what I do _._ That's why it works out so perfect!" She looked up at him and felt the defeat hit her as she heard him say "You're going straight home, right?"

She could feel the scream of frustration escaping and began to rage quietly as she headed for the elevator. "Go straight home Amanda! Story of my life. School, dinners, grocery store, then straight home Amanda!" She marched towards the elevator, knowing she wouldn't be going home. She couldn't go home in this state – her mother would see through her in a heartbeat.

Lee was still talking. "We just have to wait for O'Keefe to take the bait and if he calls for rendezvous, I'll just get Francine to double for you." It was the final straw; he already had a lookalike waiting in the apartment with a romantic dinner on the stove and obvious intentions and now he was using lookalikes at work as well. "Riiggghhhht! Yeah!" she found herself yelling at him. "We could at least watch him but you have better things to do."

"Amanda King, I am not going to fight with you about this! Watching him is pointless. Now you go home!" He was still glaring at her as the elevator door closed; she had no idea whether or not he'd her mutter "Not this time Buster!"

Her flight instinct had gone into overdrive by the time she hit the lobby. Sitting in her car in the parking garage five minutes later, she was beating the steering wheel and screaming at the top of her lungs. Leslie was going to tell him everything, she just knew it. This was it – her career, her friendship with Lee, everything – it was all about to come crashing down around her ears and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it now.

"Well I can't go home, so I may as well go watch O'Keefe," she thought. "If this is the last thing I ever work on, at least it will have been trying to keep someone else's life from falling apart as badly as mine is about to." She wiped the tears off with her shirt sleeve and headed out to Trans-Oceanic.

* * *

"Amanda's very nice. You're lucky to have her."

Lee was still cringing with embarrassment at having used the wrong name when he turned to look at Leslie and realized she had changed into the dress he'd bought her. He'd picked the perfect size, she looked fabulous, but somehow, she didn't look _right_. He couldn't figure out what it was and filled the stretching silence with chatter. "Yes. Amanda is very special." He held out a hand and led Leslie to the couch. "You look lovely."

"So how long have you known her?" If he hadn't been so disconcerted by his slip of the tongue, he might have wondered why she was so interested in his "secretary".

"Amanda? Oh, I don't know, a little while, I guess." He found himself fudging facts for some reason in the face of Leslie's intense blue-eyed gaze.

"Really? You seemed close." She paused and started to stroke the hair along the side of his head. "You know, she pretended not to recognize me, but we'd met before."

He stared at her, startled. "Oh, you must have the wrong Amanda. If she'd met you before, she would have said so."

"Oh no, we spent quite a lot of time together. It was in Munich last year." Leslie gave a little laugh. "She's probably horribly embarrassed. We got very drunk together one night and she made a pass at me."

She was so intent on trying to damage Amanda that she never sensed the danger as Lee pulled back and stared at her through narrowed eyes. "She did? That doesn't seem much like the mousy little woman I know at work." He could feel the faint memory of something tugging at him and waited to see what Leslie would say next.

"Oh yes, it was horribly clumsy – I don't think she'd ever done such a thing before but she was just getting over her divorce, you know, and I guess she was just drunk and desperate. But fortunately, we were both leaving Munich the next day and after she left my hotel room, I didn't see her again." She was looking up at him demurely, the way Princess Diana did in photos, but he could hear the malicious undertone in her voice. He still wasn't entirely sure he believed she'd met Amanda at all – this seemed like a set-up – until she went on. "She was in such a hurry to leave, she forgot the bag with her sons' train set in it. I left it with the hotel desk, but I have no idea if she ever went back for it."

Now he was on full alert, although Leslie still seemed oblivious. _That damn train set had landed Amanda in jail_. Now certain this was a set-up, he encouraged her to go on. "She made a pass at you? She really doesn't seem the type."

"Oh, yes, I'd fallen asleep after we had far too much wine at dinner and woke up to find her all over me. I must say though, she was a great kisser." She'd given a false giggle.

 _Funny_ , thought Lee ironically. _That might be the only true thing you've said so far._

"I was certainly glad I'd gotten rid of her the next day when the police showed up at my hotel."

"The police? What did they want?"

"Well, it seemed that she'd paid our restaurant bill the night before with counterfeit dollars. I was shocked – as you say she doesn't seem the type."

"Did you tell them that? Maybe she hadn't done it on purpose," he asked slowly, pretending to be absorbed in the story, even as his mind raced back to the year before.

"Well, I really didn't want to get involved in case she had. I needed to get to Paris to interview for the job I have now and I just couldn't get delayed there – being associated with it all would have ruined my chances to get a security clearance for the job."

"So you just left?" He couldn't believe it –she was actually batting her eyes at him now. He thought people only did that in books. He had no idea what she'd done to Amanda in Munich – and he was certain she'd done something - but he was beginning to see Amanda's behavior in the hallway just now in a whole new light.

"Well, yes. I mean if she was guilty I couldn't be associated with her and if she was innocent, she'd be fine, right? And obviously, it all worked out. Although you might want to reconsider her working for you if she's that undependable."

Leslie O'Connor probably never knew how lucky she was that the phone had rung at that moment and O'Keefe had demanded to see him.

"I'm sorry, Leslie, but I need to go and I think you need to go as well."

"Really? You wouldn't like to stay and wait up for you?" She'd pouted at him prettily, completely unaware of how tight a rein he had on his temper at that moment.

"No, that's not a good idea. I don't know when I'll be back." He stood up, his body language making it clear he was waiting for her to leave.

She gave in ungracefully, collecting her things and pausing at the door. "But I'll see you at the party at the Embassy tomorrow night?"

"We'll see," he answered. _Not in a million years,_ he thought.

* * *

He'd raided the vault the next morning before Amanda arrived, pulling all the files on that disaster in Munich. Yes, there was mention of Leslie O'Connor in the notes, or Lee as Amanda had known her. _Other Lee_ , he thought, _she told me that_. He looked at the photocopy of the restaurant bill for the night in question, brows raised when he saw how much wine and liquor they'd gone through. He knew from experience what a light drinker Amanda was, but then again, he recalled, Leslie had spent a fair amount of the evening before pulling the same stunt on him, refilling his glass constantly.

He flipped through the police reports, seeing for the first time that all the witness reports were from the restaurant while Amanda's was entirely about the money she'd spent in the toy store and that she had confessed to doing something she had never done. He read through the police notes, remembering asking the desk sergeant to translate portions of it.

" _And how did you connect Frau King to this if she paid in cash?" he'd asked_

" _Oh, that is here, in the report also," said the constable, helpfully pointing to the line above. "The other half of the bill was paid with her credit card, you see?"_

She'd paid for the dinner with her credit card because she'd had no cash, but Leslie had. Whether she'd known it was counterfeit currency or not didn't really matter to Lee; she'd purposely walked away and left Amanda to take the fall for it on her own.

Lee settled in and read the file again from start to finish, making notes as he went. Volkenauer had been very thorough, but he'd missed a few details by having interviews done by different people. He had interviewed the waiter who recalled two brown-haired women, one of whom had paid cash, but when his sergeant had interviewed Leslie, she had outright lied, saying Amanda had paid the whole thing. They'd even interviewed the desk clerks at Amanda's hotel, both the night clerk who described her arriving back at the hotel at 3 am, looking frantic and disheveled and the regular clerk who told them how she had run out of the hotel the next morning so quickly they had actually checked her room for her belongings, wondering if she had been making a run for it.

He flipped to the front of the file, confirming his suspicion that she had been on her way to her drop. She had been honest there, admitting she had run late and almost missed it, but no one had ever noticed that part of her report, so caught up in everything that had happened afterwards.

Then he read through the admission report, wincing as he did so. He'd never borne the brunt of the full efficiency of the German police department and she had never said a word about it but it must have been harrowing. He reached around for his English-German dictionary to look up "Knutschfleck", slamming the dictionary shut when he figured out what it meant.

He glanced at the notes he'd been taking and really saw the full horror of it for the first time. If he was right, she had been attacked by Leslie after being plied with liquor all evening, she'd been arrested for something she hadn't done at all but was convinced she had, she'd been strip searched and then she'd been in jail for a day and a half until he'd arrived. No wonder she'd been crying when he got there.

An icy feeling suddenly came over him as it hit him. Amanda _hadn't_ been crying when he got there. She'd been sitting on the metal cot looking tiny and scared, but she hadn't been crying. He'd been hungover and exhausted because Gillian had dumped him after arriving at his apartment to pick him up for their weekend away and finding him half-drunk in the middle of the afternoon. He couldn't even remember what had set off that particular bender, but he remembered the tall blonde giving him hell before flouncing out of his life. So he'd been in a horrible mood when he walked in and he had started yelling at her and she'd gotten quieter and quieter until she'd finally had enough and started to cry. Even now, he could remember how hard she'd tried not to, but he'd pushed and pushed, looking for a target to lash out at. His heart sank realizing the extra trauma he'd managed to inflict in just a few minutes.

His eye fell on the list stapled in the front cover of the history file he kept on the cases they worked together. _Munich, Tegernsee, Bromfield Hall, Operation Possum…_

Of course, he thought. That's why she'd been nervous about Valov hypnotising her – she'd just had someone trying to take advantage of her while she was under the influence. She'd only agreed to do it because he'd been there. The tumblers were falling into place in his head now, faster than he could keep up. _Station One_ – she'd said it was Francine attacking her that had made her nervous. She'd made it sound like it was reaction to that attempted kidnapping but he could see now, it had been because it had been a woman.

The air of the Q Bureau had been turned blue for a moment as he swore loudly and vehemently and then he scrambled to close the files and slide them into his desk drawer when he heard Amanda's light step coming down the hallway towards the Q Bureau.

He'd put on his best smile as she walked in, "Well, Good Morning, Annie Oakley."

She'd made a motion that might have been defensive, rapidly hidden and said in her best attempt at a jokey tone, "Don't you mean Calamity Jane?"

Damn it, he'd done it again he realized. He'd yelled at her last night too at Trans-Oceanic, and although that had been fueled by his relief she was all right, she wouldn't know the difference.

She had stopped in the doorway, looking like she was ready to flee at a moment's notice and he realized she was wondering if Leslie had said anything the night before.

"Either one, they were both famously good shots and that was a hell of a shot you made last night." He watched her relax, kicking himself again that he'd put that look on her face to start with. "Say, Amanda, I was thinking we could over and tell Elizabeth and Eric how it all worked out last night and that their troubles are over."

Her face lit up at his suggestion. "That would be great!"

* * *

It wasn't until they were walking away from the Sullivans' boat that he decided to suggest dinner that night. She'd been uneasy immediately, pointing out to him that he was supposed to be at a party with Leslie that night.

"Ah, she won't be lonely believe me" he'd answered "She'll be working anyway." Not for long though, he'd thought with no small amount of malicious satisfaction. He'd be dropping a few whispers in a few ears in the next little while and he suspected Leslie would be finding she was less and less in demand for work as a high-level international translator.

And now dinner was over and they were lounging in opposite corners of his couch, her feet propped against his thigh as she sipped the glass of red wine she'd been nursing all evening. He was telling her stories about growing up on Air Force bases when she'd rolled her head back trying to get a kink out of her neck. He'd found himself staring at her exposed collarbone, thinking about the new word he'd learned today – Knutschfleck – and wondered what it would be like to run his fingers along that exposed skin. When had he started to think that way about Amanda? When had she become important to him, to the guy who had sworn no one was going to be important to him again? He struggled to try and understand it and then once again the pieces began to fall into place, just as they had that morning in his office. Sitting in that room in London with Emily, telling her he wanted to go home. _Home to Amanda?_ Emily had said and he'd known it even then but refused to recognize it. _Yes. Home was Amanda._

He realized she was staring at him, warm smile on her face, laughing eyes, waiting for him to finish whatever story he'd been telling when he'd been distracted. He could see it now in her eyes, the thing he wanted more than anything in the world and which he'd only ever had once before and lost.

"Amanda," he found himself saying. "Have I ever told you about Andy?"

He watched the slight surprise cross her face and she tilted her head slightly to study him more closely. He didn't know what she saw but she leaned across to take his hand and pull him across the couch until his head was lying on her chest and then she wrapped her arms around him and said quietly, "No, you haven't. Why don't you tell me all about him?"


End file.
